


Ginger Root.

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Series: nutvember 2020 [2]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Angst, Crying After Sex, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Restraints, Sex Pollen, Sex Pollen Aftermath, but like the alternative is young dies soooo, rush technically consents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27365296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: nutvemberEDIT: I wrote this in one go at 1am and slapped it up without even alpha reading, I've now edited it.Directly follows Tied; The fall out of the pollen not being handled in the first place. Now Rush knows what he has to do, and he has mixed feelings about it, but he can't put anyone else in harms way. Not with how out of his mind Young is from the pollen.
Relationships: Nicholas Rush/Everett Young
Series: nutvember 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996978
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Ginger Root.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not writing figging, I'm writing more sexpollen cus what about the angsty fall out??? what if Rush consented to the sex and Young didn't??? but its sort of the prompt because its the emotional pin and burning of ginger root

* * *

* * *

It had been an hour since the security team has gently pushed him from the room, and Young’s yelling had only gotten louder, until Rush could hear his muffled voice through the door. Rush stood, feeling oddly jittery, outside medical, unsure why he had stayed, but unable to leave – TJ had cleaned the rope burns around his wrists, and wrapped them sparingly in recycled gauze. The slightly stained fabric glared up at him, almost accusingly, _keeping things from TJ is_ dangerous, it whispered.

The door hissed open, and he jumped, looking through his hair at TJ guiltily. He couldn’t help but squeeze his hands together, nervus energy needing an outlet.

She shook her head in answer to a question he hadn’t asked. There was a fresh bruise on her cheek, and bloody scratches on her neck. Blood that he didn’t think was hers dotted her shirt, like someone had spat it at her.

“It isn’t working. Are you sure there wasn’t something else?” She asked, and she looked so frustrated.

Rush bit his lip, looking away. He twisted his finger, picking at the back of the bandages wrapping his wrists. TJ’s eagle eyes were on him, and she had him by the shoulders, thin hands strong and firm, backing him away from the door to give the illusion of privacy.

He wished she wouldn’t lean down like that when speaking to him, he wasn’t so short it was necessary.

“Nickolas, did something else happen?” She kept her voice down, but Rush shifted uncomfortably.

“I- I might know of a way. It’s-” He looked away, rubbing at the join of his shoulder as he groped for the words. “-It’s sexual. It’s what made him passive the first time.” He confessed, lifted his eyes in challenge, shame hot in his gut. As soon as the words were out, he wanted to claw them back, eat them again. Unadmit them.

He could see the mounting horror in her eyes. The question she was on the verge of asking.

“No, it wasn’t like that. He stopped himself.” Rush assured her quickly, hesitantly touching TJ’s elbow. His words didn’t seem to sooth her as much as he had hoped. TJ looked back behind them, at the closed door. Yells of fury echoed from behind it.

“He’s handcuffed to the bed. Two sets. He’s hurting himself trying to get to you.” She sounded so close to tears.

_Trying to get to you._

His skin prickled, a wave of gooseflesh breaking out under his shirts.

Rush nodded.

He had been standing here, listening to them fight Young.

“He’ll kill himself if this isn’t stopped.”

TJ was looking at him, her eyes wide and worried. “I already gave him the strongest sedative we have. It didn’t have an effect. He doesn’t respond to us touching his skin.”

She wasn’t going to ask, she would never be so _crass_ , but he knew where this was leading. He wouldn’t put her in that position.

“You’re only making it worse. Get them out of there, leave me a radio. I… I’ll take care of this.”

~*~

Rush stepped inside, not looking back.

The door hissed shut behind him, whirling as it locked. Everyone else was gone; TJ had packed up medical as best she could, leaving them to it. Young lay on a bed near the back of the room, and he couldn’t see Rush immediately, but his yells had stopped. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and looked down at what TJ had shoved into his hand, quickly on her way out.

A small metal lube of lubricant, and a single foil encased condom. He shivered. _No backing out now_.

Young was silent now, like he could sense Rush was there. But as he walked to the corner they had chained him in, legs stiff with apprehension, he wondered if all this would be for nothing; if his heart had given out- if they had waited too long. Rush brushed the curtain aside, and the Colonel’s eyes glittered at him in the low light. They were dark and hazy, but he focused on Rush like he was the food, and the Colonel was starving.

“Colonel Young,” he greeted.

“…Rush,” Young greeted, his voice soft and wrecked. “You shouldn’t be here.” Everything about Young’s posture went against his words; he strained against the handcuffs to lean towards him. Laid out on his back, ankles tied sloppily but solidly, hands cuffed on either side of the bed- he had his hands wrapped around the chain of the cuff nearest him, arm tense as he pulled against it. A folded-up jacket rested under his head. Sweat stuck his shirt to his chest, his hair to his forehead.

Rush ignored his warning, moving to the side of his bed, and righted the chair that had been knocked over. He sat down, and after a moment’s hesitation, laid a hand on the exposed skin of the Colonel’s upper arm.

Colonel Young’s muscles tightened, and then relaxed, as he groaned through his grit teeth, narrowing his eyes at Rush. Rush gave him a tight smile.

“See? You’re already getting better.” He tried for light, but the tone fell flat.

“No, I’m not.”

No, he wasn’t. His wrists were bleeding, despite the heavy wrapping TJ had put on them in an attempt to protect them from the cuffs. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, and Rush suspected he’d bit someone; Rush wiped his damp palms along the tops of his jeans, and Young tracked the movement like a predator. He narrowed his eyes at the half-hidden lube in Rush’s hand, and Rush flushed, shoving it in his pocket.

“You should _leave_.” He hissed, furious.

Rush scowled, temper flaring. “No, I _shouldn’t_. You’ve spent the last hour screaming your throat raw. Do you remember what you’ve been screaming, Colonel?”

He didn’t give him a chance to answer. Using the anger in place of courage, Rush braced a hand on either side of Young’s face, and swung his leg over him, straddling his hips. He ended up with his face inches from his, scowling at him. “ _My_ name. You’ve been yelling my name.” He paused, heart beating hard in his chest.

“You hit TJ.” He added, softly, as Young continued to stare at him.

They stared at one another for a long, drawn out moment.

Young looked away first, averting his eyes.

“Shit.” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Rush agreed, and like that the fight ran out of him. He sat up, shoulders sagging. Young was a furnace underneath him, his body throwing off so much heat that sitting near him made the room seem almost cold against Rush’s back. For the moment he could ignore the clothed erection just in front of him, but sitting like this, he wasn’t touching any of the Colonel’s bare skin; already Young was shifting uncomfortably, eyes looking lost.

Rush untucked Young’s shirt, and pushed it up, resting his palm on Young’s abdomen. It took very little time for the clarity to come back to his gaze; it made Rush’s argument for him.

“I think it will be easier if you’re in your right mind, or as close to it as you can be.” God he was tired. Tired of things going _wrong_.

He hadn’t touched anyone intimately except Mandy, not since Grace. And that hadn’t really been Mandy, and now here he was, cornered into having sex with Young. It didn’t feel _sexy_ , it felt vulgar, and dirty, and he wished the contact didn’t sooth part of him that was so terribly _lonely_.

He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them, to find Young looking up at him with a heart breakingly vulnerably expression of pure want on his broad features. It had been _years_ since anyone had looked at him like that.

Rush covered his mouth, looking away.

 _It’s fake, don’t let it get under your skin_. In an hour or two, Young would hate him again.

Young’s head thumped back against the bed, like a spell had been broken. His voice sounded worn out when he spoke, the fight gone from him.

Any other time, Rush would have felt victorious, having won so easily.

“You’re going to have to leave me tied up, Rush. You’ll have to prep yourself.”

He bit his lip.

“Alright.”

He couldn’t just shuffle their clothes aside, they didn’t have anything to change into after. Reluctantly, Rush crawled off, and quickly stripped himself down to the skin, folding his clothes over the chair, while trying to ignore how the air felt against his bare skin.

He could only push up Young’s shirt, and tug down his pants and underwear; Young lifted his hips for Rush, his cock hard and wet, too close to Rush’s face, and he could _feel_ Young’s eyes along his skin as his adjusted his clothing. His skin was so hot, and Young tried his best, but he couldn’t bite back every groan, every muttered curse at the hot pleasure from being touched.

Eventually, he had to climb back on top of him. He had avoided it, but again he steeled himself, and swung a leg over the Colonel, trying to ignore the press of burning skin to his own bare skin. That his was his naked ass perched on the tops of Young’s thighs, his hands braced on Young’s hips, studiously ignoring the straining cock between his hands. Rush hovered awkwardly, torn between horror and arousal at the feeling of Young’s hard muscles against his own body.

Young’s ankles were tied loosely to the bed, but he could bend his knees as Rush found out, when he took too long just _looking_ at Young, watching the way his muscles contracted under Rush’s gaze like they’d been touched physically; and the Colonel arched his body up to knock Rush forward. It was electric, the hot slide of his velvet cockskin against Rush’s stomach, leaving a damp smear along his skin. His chest was strong and thick, skin damp with sweat, and Rush was used to the Colonel using their size difference against him, but this was _different._

“Use your fingers Rush,” Young ground out, straining to look at him. “I – please.”

He could hear the words unsaid. Young’s heart beat hard and fast; Rush could feel it, pounding like it wanted to escape his ribcage. He nodded, bracing one arm across Young’s naked chest, and settled his knees more firmly on either side of Young’s hips.

He was getting hard from this, and there was no way to hide it from Young, his erection pushing against the bound man’s thigh. But the Colonel said nothing, just leaned his head forward, until Rush could feel his breath against the crown of his head. He was watching, he realized.

“L-lube, circle your hole, first. Don’t just jab it in,” he instructed, breathless, and the _desire_ in the Colonel’s voice. He liked the idea of Rush touching himself, he thought in a daze, and wondered how much of this was the pollen and how much was the Colonel, as he fumbled with the cap, cold lubricant spilling onto his fingers. _It’s just the drug_. It was dangerous to think otherwise.

Young wasn’t attracted to _him_. He had to remind himself of that.

The lube was cold, and he hissed as it touched between his legs; it was an awkward reach, but he did as Young instructed, dragging a messy finger around his hole and teasing himself until his heart was fluttering with anticipation.

“Push it in now,” the Colonel order, and Rush did. He didn’t even question it. It was strange but now uncomfortable, so he squished a second finger into himself, pushing lubricant deep inside himself, and pressed his face against Young’s bare skin, panting. He was too distracted, but it felt like lips were pressed against his hair, and he thought Young might have whispered something to him.

Two fingers became three, and the angle made his shoulder ache. His fingers weren’t as thick as the Colonel’s cock, but Rush didn’t think his pinky was going to make much of a difference. Groaning in frustration, he pulled his fingers free, and sat up, make a face as the sensation of wet lube inside him and nothing else.

Young looked lost, face flushed and eyes blown, but he thrashed his head, breath fast.

“Slow down- slow _down_ , Rush- you’ll hurt yourself,” he gasped, arching into the wet hand gripping his dick. Rush ignored him. He spread the lube, a bit too much, but he felt faint with a mixture of dread an anticipation. Part of him wanted this to be over quickly, but another part wanted to slow down and enjoy the only physical contact he was likely to get for years.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m letting you die,” he muttered, shuffling himself farther up Young’s body so he was kneeling over his hips, legs spread awkwardly to accommodate his wider hips. He couldn’t stop or he would think about what he was doing, so he reached between his own legs to hold Young’s dick in place, and started sinking down slowly. He winced, body resisting, but the weight of himself bearing down slid Rush slowly onto the colonel’s slick cock, while they both groaned at the sensation.

It was _tight._ He had to brace himself against Young’s abdomen, hands almost claws as he panted, biting his lips, and when he caught Young’s expression, it was the most present he’d seen him in hours. The red was almost gone from his eyes, the bruised look around them replaced with a flush. Rush’s hard cock dragged across the Colonel’s hot abdomen, trapped between their bodies as Rush curled forward, taking him farther inside with a low noise.

He wasn’t sure if this was pleasure, but it was _a lot_. Rush clung to Young, eyes shut tight.

“ _Fuck_ Rush, you’re so tight,” Young whispered, reverent, and groaned as he thrust his hips into the scientist involuntarily. “Sorry, sorry. _Fuck.”_

Rush’s thighs were shaking from holding himself up, keeping the rest of Young outside his body. He’d had not idea it would feel like _this_. He felt scraped raw, everything about the fucked up situation making the pleasure more intense.

Rush gave in, and sank all the way down, with a choked off sob. It felt _good_ , Young was so hot, impossibly hot, and he felt full in a way that made it hard to think. The trembling edge of his orgasm was _right there_.

“Just- fuck! – _fuck me, you arsehole._ ” His heart was in his throat, and it had never felt this _desperate_ before. Young moaned, and his hips thrust, as much as they could, but they were both needy and desperate; Rush choked on his own moan, clenching down on him as he came inelegantly, suddenly spilling between their bodies. His hands were tangled around Young, holding onto him, and Young’s mouth was pressed against his neck, his hair, his cheek, Rush’s name mumbled over and over again as he pushed himself awkwardly into Rush’s body. Praise and curses tangled together as he rocked their bodies together, his breath washing against Rush’s ear, and he untangled a hand to push it over the side, twisting his fingers with Young’s cuffed hand. Young clutched his hand, groaning, and teeth sank into his shoulder; Rush felt the heat inside him as the Colonel came, only dimly remembering that he’d been given a condom for this reason.

Too late. Hot semen leaked out from his body as the Colonel thrust shallowly into him, afterglow hazy. His neck was bleeding, drops of blood sliding across his skin from the deepest parts of the bite; it was another this he’d have to hide.

The glow faded like glitter in moonlight, slowly fading, and he was wet and uncomfortable, hips and spine aching from the new activity. It didn’t _hurt_ , but his wrists did, pushed under Colonel Young’s neck, his hand tangled in his curly hair.

The other was held tightly in Young’s hand, the Colonel’s fingers twined with his, and it didn’t hurt. Not physically.

Rush didn’t move, but as quickly as euphoria gathered, it disappeared, leaving him feeling hallow and dirty.

“Rush..?” Young whispered. His warm breath moved his hair, but there was no warm hand against his back; the Colonel was still chained.

He turned his face, making sure the hot tears soaked into the bedding, and not into Young’s skin.

“I’m fine.” He lied.


End file.
